As I chewed the food on my pte, a realization struck me.

  'I can’t understand them at all.'

  For some reason, the nguage barrier remained an issue when Sophia wasn’t involved in the conversation.

  'Is it because of my master-beast retionship with her?'

  Honestly, I didn’t mind it much, nor did I think it mattered at the moment. If something was unclear, I could always ask her for crification.

  In this world, I was a cat. As far as I knew, cats didn’t speak, nor did they bother with conversation.

  As I watched the family interact, my gaze shifted to Sophia’s father.

  He exuded the presence of a prominent figure. Given that he was the head of the household, with an overwhelming status window to match, it was to be expected.

  Yet, something about him still irritated me.

  From my time with Sophia, I could tell that this man was undoubtedly one of the sources of her struggles. And my horrible first impression of him certainly didn’t help.

  'I guess I just don’t like him.'

  ***

  Naphael sat quietly in the dining room, eating his meal.

  The tension in the room had eased slightly, thanks to his wife’s efforts to initiate conversation. From time to time, he contributed, following her lead.

  His gaze drifted to Sophia, a heavy regret settled in his chest.

  'She’s grown so much.'

  The image of the little girl who had once spent her days in his arms, always clinging to him, seemed to be fading.

  Throughout the conversation, Sophia avoided meeting his eyes, focusing instead on his wife. He noticed but chose not to dwell on it. For now, her presence in the dining room was enough.

  It hadn’t always been like this.

  When she was younger, Sophia would run to him without hesitation, as though their connection were natural.

  But now, the space between them felt vast.

  Naphael couldn’t help but feel the ache of what had changed.

  His attention then shifted to the cat beside Sophia, noisily eating.

  'This cat...'

  Despite its unassuming appearance, something about it felt off. Naphael’s instincts, sharpened by years of experience, stirred with unease.

  Then, his wife mentioned the cat, drawing his attention.

  ***

  "Sophia, who is this adorable cat you’ve brought with you?" Valeslina asked with curiosity.

  "Mom, this is Sir Seraphix," Sophia replied, her voice brimming with excitement. "I forgot to mention earlier, but I’ve become a beast tamer! Sir Seraphix is my ‘nine-stroke’ beast—I tamed him myself!"

  "Oh my! I had no idea this adorable creature had such an impressive origin," Valeslina said, her tone light with amazement.

  "Hehe, yes, Mom. Sir Seraphix is truly incredible. You should feel his fur—it’s so soft!" Sophia beamed.

  "Well, now I’m curio—" Valeslina began, but her words were abruptly cut off.

  "That’s impossible," Naphael interjected.

  The lively atmosphere instantly evaporated, repced by a tension.

  "No, it’s true, Sir Seraphix—" Sophia tried to defend herself but was interrupted again.

  "Your ‘pet’ isn’t a nine-stroke beast, nor have you become a beast tamer," Naphael said sharply. "Sophia, I don’t recall ever teaching you to make up lies."

  The room fell into an oppressive silence.

  Sophia’s excitement crumbled under her father’s scorn. Her gaze dropped to the table, and she clenched her fists tightly.

  'I thought... I thought he would praise me...'

  Slowly, tears welled in her eyes, accompanied by soft sniffles. But just as despair threatened to consume her, another emotion took its pce.

  Anger.

  She had dedicated countless hours, pouring every ounce of effort into reaching this point. She had sworn this would be her final attempt.

  And now...

  'Why... why won’t he believe me...'

  The thought echoed painfully in her mind, making all her hard work feel empty and meaningless in her father’s eyes.

  Sophia stood abruptly, her tear-streaked eyes locking onto her father.

  "I-it’s true," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "Sir Seraphix isn’t a pet. He’s my tamed beast."

  Naphael’s gaze hardened.

  "Sophia, you know this better than anyone. You have no talent. Stop clinging to delusions."

  The word 'talent' hit Sophia like a physical blow, tightening her throat.

  No one understood her ck of talent better than she did, and she was painfully aware that it was the reason for her father’s coldness toward her.

  Yet, despite the sting, she refused to back down.

  Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and spoke again, her tone unwavering.

  "If you want proof..."

  With deliberate movements, Sophia removed her gloves, revealing a beast pattern etched into the skin of her right arm.

  ***

  As Naphael noticed the mark etched on his daughter's hand, a sudden surge of anger coursed through him.

  "Sophia!!!"

  Striding toward her, he grabbed her arm, pulling it toward him.

  "Naphael! Stop!"

  Valeslina tried to intervene, but his anger drowned out her voice.

  Naphael held Sophia’s hand tightly, his eyes fixed on the scarred pattern resembling moons and stars.

  "Sophia, what kind of madness is this?!! Are you so desperate that you’d burn your own hand?!!"

  For Naphael, despite all his power, wealth, and influence, his family was what truly mattered most. Seeing his daughter hurt was something he could not tolerate, even if she was the one who caused it.

  "Naphael, enough!" Valeslina’s voice cut through the tension, punctuated by the sharp sound of her palm striking the table.

  Yet Naphael heard nothing but his own voice. His emotions fred as he examined the scars more closely. The faint redness around their edges, a clear sign of their recent origin, only intensified his growing fury.

  "Who told you to do this?!! Tell me now!!!"

  Valeslina, having reached her limit, moved to intervene. But before she could act, the atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly. She froze mid-motion, paralyzed by an oppressive stillness that seemed to isote the room from the rest of the world.

  Naphael felt it too.

  As a Grand Magus, his heightened sensitivity made the shift impossible to ignore.

  ***

  Even though I couldn’t understand the nguage, I could feel the shift in the room's atmosphere.

  It wasn’t hard to guess the reason behind it.

  Sophia’s father, Naphael.

  I tried not to pry.

  I knew it wouldn’t end well for me, considering the odds were stacked against me. After all, I was just a cat—without any real understanding of this world, no clear grasp of my abilities, and absolutely nothing of value to offer.

  If I interfered, I’d likely be tossed out of this house like a piece of trash.

  But then, I heard a quiet sniffle behind me.

  When I turned, I saw Sophia staring down, tears streaming from her eyes.

  A memory fshed in my mind. It resembled this moment.

  Something stirred within me. My teeth clenched involuntarily as my gaze snapped to Naphael.

  'What the hell did you do to her?!'

  Then, Naphael stood, walked toward Sophia, and forcefully grabbed her arm.

  Terror filled Sophia's eyes.

  As Naphael started shouting in her face, I saw her trembling, visibly shrinking under his rage.

  Watching the scene, I felt something inside me break.

  'Naphael, you!!'

  I made up my mind. I would act.

  In the short time I’d spent with Sophia, I’d come to understand just how fragile she was. If this continued, she might truly break.

  Even with anger boiling inside me, I held onto reason.

  I reviewed my options carefully.

  Among the three skills I had at my disposal, the choice wasn’t difficult. Using 'Essence Devour' was too risky—the consequences could spiral out of control. I couldn’t afford to make things worse by acting recklessly.

  I considered using 'Transmogrify Essence' to shift into an adult body and nd a punch squarely on Naphael’s face, but preserving my image as a cat was the wiser choice for the long term.

  So, I settled on 'Veil of the Abyss'—an aura skill.

  From experience, I knew the first step when dealing with an enraged person was to redirect their attention. Once that was achieved, I could decide on my next move.

  As I gred at Naphael, a thought crossed my mind:

  'At the very least, I need to give him a scratch he won’t forget.'

  ***

  As Naphael observed the atmosphere intently, a sudden realization dawned on him.

  'An aura...?'

  Naphael gaze instinctively turned toward its source: a bck cat with piercing bck eyes.

  The creature stared at him intently.

  Suddenly, Naphael felt something intruding into his mind—information being forcefully impnted.

  "Let go of her."

  At the command, Naphael felt an indescribable wave of malice surge toward him, clouding his mind with a single, overwhelming emotion.

  'Am I... afraid?'

  For someone who had fought countless battles, Naphael had long forgotten what fear felt like. No matter how strong his opponents were, he always knew, deep down, that he could defeat them.

  But now, a realization struck him—this fear could only mean one thing: he was facing something he had no hope of overcoming.

  Instinctively, Naphael released Sophia’s hand, compelled to obey the command.

  Naphael’s gaze fixed on the creature, frozen in pce—the so-called nine-stroke beast.

  With deliberate steps, the beast moved forward, pcing itself squarely between Naphael and Sophia.

  “You’ve truly tested my patience,” it growled, raising its paw, ready to strike.

  But another voice interrupted.

  “N-no, Sir Seraphix, don’t hurt Father. I-I’m fine.”

  The trembling plea jolted Naphael back to his senses. He turned toward the source of the voice—Sophia stood there, her head bowed, shoulders trembling.

  Her right arm, the one he had gripped, bore a deep, hand-shaped bruise, tinged with blue at the edges.

  A wave of regret crashed over him as he realized what he had done.

  Sniffling, Sophia wiped her tears before lifting her gaze to meet him.

  “F-father, if you don’t believe me, so be it... It was my mistake to expect you to.” Her voice wavered. “Since I’ve said what I needed to... I’ll be leaving now.”

  With careful movements, she gently picked up Seraphix, cradling it against her chest.

  Offering a slight bow, she added softly, “Thank you for the breakfast...”

  Sophia turned toward the grand doors, opened them slowly, and stepped out, closing them quietly behind her.

  ***

  After Sophia walked out of the dining room, the oppressive atmosphere immediately dissipated, leaving the air feeling normal again.

  Valeslina suddenly let out a loud gasp.

  Throughout the entire ordeal, she had unknowingly held her breath, overwhelmed by the suffocating tension.

  Naphael, armed, hurried toward her. But as he reached out to help, Valeslina spped him across the face.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Her voice sharp with anger.

  “I… I’m sorry,” Naphael murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor.

  Valeslina sighed deeply, her expression softening. “Ha, I’m sorry too. I just… I felt like I needed to do that right now.”

  “It’s alright. I deserved it.”

  Valeslina frowned, her thoughts returning to what had just happened. “More importantly, what was that earlier? Do you know anything about it?”

  “I think… it was an aura,” Naphael said hesitantly.

  “An aura?!” Valeslina’s eyes widened. “How could an aura feel like 'that'?”

  The memory sent a chill down her spine. It was hard to believe that something so overwhelmingly oppressive could simply be an aura.

  “I don’t understand it myself,” Naphael admitted, shaking his head.

  Valeslina hesitated before asking, “So, is that beast really a nine-stroke beast?”

  “I’m not sure,” Naphael replied grimly. “For now, I’ll write a letter to the Grand Tamer.”

  Valeslina nodded. “I understand. At least we now know that the beast seems to favor Sophia.”

  “You’re right…” Naphael muttered.

  As he looked at Valeslina, a wave of relief washed over him.

  'I’m gd she's alright'

  Naphael realized that his wife hadn’t been affected by the malice radiating from the beast. Even as a Grand Magus, he had been shaken to his core. The malice had stirred something deep within him—a terror that bordered on trauma.

  'It’ll take me some time to recover from this.'